


Scarves in the Deep Roads

by HeroMaggie



Series: Anders Needs Hugs [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders tells Hawke about his Commander and the importance of a scarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarves in the Deep Roads

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to Share With Me Your Sorrow. 
> 
> Eavan is my Tabris Warden Commander

The deep roads were twice as terrible as Hawke had been expecting. They hadn’t been too bad back when they had been with Bartrand’s group. There, the bustle of the workers had been enough to drown out the oppressive atmosphere. Back then, the entire trip had felt like a dashing adventure. They would delve into the dread deep roads, overcome obstacles, and return rich and famous. Hawke had been counting on the rich part to save her family. Now she was just hoping to return. It had been days since Bartrand had locked them in, days since they had started walking blind through an unmapped thaig. It was wearing on them all.

It was wearing the most on Anders. She watched him prowl restlessly, his steps nearly silent on the stone. He was a mess. His hands twitching, head cocked as if listening to music, he was in constant motion. She would have felt worse about bringing him but he had saved them countless times now. He could sense every dark spawn, could tell them how many and what type. Every encounter left him sweating and pale, his hands twitching harder and his eyes narrowed in pain. He barely slept, barely ate, and clung to a tattered scarf when he did sit. 

She couldn’t stand watching him walk another circuit. A quick glance showed her that Varric and Carver were near the back of the small room they had appropriated for camp. Both were asleep, curled in on themselves as they tried to find a small measure of rest. She stood slowly, moving to Anders’ side. 

“Anders?” her whisper carried across the still air, causing him to stop his movements with a jerky lurch. “Come sit with me.”

His head swung to face her and she closed her eyes in grief. Gaunt, shadowed, his face was nearly hollowed out with stress and pain. His eyes were dull, lifeless. Going to him, she took his hand and guided him down with her to the bare stone. He shuddered and then leaned against her shoulder, breath coming out in a rush. She slid an arm around him and was shocked at how thin he felt, how fragile. “Anders, you need to rest. You need to eat.”

His fingers twitched as he reached into a pocket of his grubby coat, pulling out the ratty scarf. He clung to it, pressing his face into the matted weave of fabric with a soft sob and gasp. Rocking, he held the scarf to him and whispered over and over again a name, “Eavan.” His voice was broken and harsh.

Hawke cradled him, moving his head to her shoulder and wrapping her arms around him in a close embrace. “Tell me?” 

He settled against her, his tremors subsiding against her warmth and solid presence. “Eavan is…was…the Commander in Ferelden. She was the woman who conscripted me and saved me from the templars.” His fingers smoothed the scarf, fingering the ends. “She gave me this.”

“The scarf?” Hawke looked at the grubby item with new eyes.

“I had admired one and she saw it, remembered. She gave me Pounce, too. When she gave me Pounce, her eyes had been so happy. She was always doing that, finding little things to make us all feel more…at home. Said she hadn’t had that when she had joined the Wardens. I think she was trying to soften the blow of the Joining.” 

Hawke found herself pulled onto Ander’s lap, his face pressed into her hair. He held on like a drowning man, rocking with her. “She told me once, while we were sitting like this, that when I went down to the deep roads and heard them, felt their tainted presence, I was to remember that the taint not just bonds us with the dark spawn but with all wardens. That we’re never really alone, never lost, never…” his voice caught, “never forgotten.”

Hawke brushed a hand over his hair, pondering this mystery woman who had held Anders, had comforted him. A small seed of jealousy sprouted in her heart. “She sounds…amazing.”

His laugh was gentle. “She was. We were, all of us, a little in love with her. Even that crazed elf looked at her with respect. She was so…strong. She could stand up to every horror that the deep roads can produce, could be vicious in a fight, and then find time to talk each of us out of our nightmares. But her strength just hid a soft heart. She mourned the loss of her friends. And she missed her lover, missed him so much sometimes I’d find her sobbing in a corner. She’d straighten, pull her shoulders back, and just give me a look as tears slid down her face. I hope she’s with him now…” He leaned back, eyes on Hawke’s face. His finger drifted down her cheek. “You remind me of her a little. That same fierce spirit.”

Hawke blushed, tried to think of something to say that would defuse the tightness in her throat. “I’m not fierce, Anders. I’m scared stiff down here. And I’m worried about you.”

Anders eyes were gentle as he cupped her cheek, “Like her. She held me when I received word that Karl was being sent to Kirkwall. She comforted me after our first trip to the deep roads. She kept me from the templars. She believed in me. She…saved me, Hawke. What would she think if she saw me now? Possessed…crazy…”

Hawke shook her head, “Not crazy. And I think she’d be proud of you. You help so many people, Anders. And you volunteered to come back down here, even though you were afraid.” She settled against his chest, tightening the hug.

He settled back against the wall, arms loose around her. She nuzzled against his chest and sighed. “I’m tired.”

“Then sleep. I’ll sit watch for a while and wake you.”

“You need rest too…” 

Anders tightened his arms. “I’m better, Hawke. You made it better. You’re a good friend.” He smiled when he felt her relax completely and her breathing even out. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Maybe even more than that,” he whispered. He held her, the words of his Commander wrapping around him like this woman’s arms.

_One day you’ll find somebody who will see beyond all your flirting and jokes, will see you and love you._

He looked at Hawke in his arms, holding him even as she slept, and thought perhaps his Commander had been right again.


End file.
